Becoming Slytherin
by JenRiley16
Summary: Emmeline Webb, of Hufflepuff descent, is Sorted into Slytherin House, and decides to make the best of it, like she always has. She befriends Harry Potter, and struggles between loyalty to her house, and loyalty to the Boy Who Lived, who seems to be showing everyone the light, one by one. Can Emmeline do the same with a certain Malfoy?
1. The Hogwarts Express

**Okay, hello, so this is my first Harry Potter fanfiction. Well, I've done some before, but they'll never see the light of day. I'm quite excited by this one; it's going to carry out through all the books - so get ready for a journey. Indeed, this is Draco/OC, but a lovely slow burn (which I very much enjoy myself). If you have any questions at all, or comments, or critiques - whatever - I'd love to hear them in a review, or PM.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter! But I do own Emmeline and her family, and any other OCs! In addition, I'll also take claim for any and all changes I make to the story line. After this, I'm not going to do the disclaimer anymore. It's a hassle. But just remember that I don't own anything except for the above mentioned.**

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**Part One: Emmeline Webb and the Sorcerer's Stone**

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Chapter One: The Hogwarts Express

The weather was bright, as expected of July. Emmeline Webb had gotten her Hogwarts letter that morning, and so her parents had taken her to Diagon Alley that very afternoon, eager to finally find all her school things. And it was no surprise that Diagon Alley was spectacularly crowded. Folks in many different colored cloaks were clinking glasses at the Leaky Cauldron, sharing sundaes at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, and cheering with one another as they celebrated what had happened almost exactly eleven years ago. It was no mystery to Emmeline; she had grown up hearing about the Boy Who Lived. The legend, Harry Potter. And it was none other than his birthday, the thirty-first of July.

After Emmeline had gotten her wand from Mr. Ollivander himself (Hawthorne, with a unicorn hair core, eleven inches, quite flexible), she had her robes mended at Madam Malkin's. Unfortunately, she didn't see any familiar faces ambling around Diagon Alley that day, which should have been expected, as nearly everyone was out and about on Harry Potter's birthday. But the day passed without a hitch, and Emmeline and her parents went back through the Leaky Cauldron and onto home, with all her school supplies in tow.

Exactly one month later would find Emmeline teetering at the edge of King's Cross, an excited grin plastered on her face. This was her first year at Hogwarts, the school her mother and father had met at. She was most excited to make new friends, as she always loved those.

"Oh, darling," her mother cooed, cupping Emmeline's cheeks, which were still slightly pudgy and round as she was only eleven, "do promise to write, won't you?"

Emmeline smiled. "Of course, Mum. I'll write whenever I can." Tears sprung to her mother's eyes, and her father smiled warmly down at her. Emmeline knew they were both happy and sad to see her go off to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"And you know it doesn't matter which house you're Sorted into, don't you, darling?" Mr. Webb asked, and Emmeline nodded dutifully. Her parents were both from Hufflepuff, but they had always preached that it oughtn't matter what house you were in, or what your blood status was. They were pure-blood, but they fraternized with everyone, no matter blood, so they were branded as blood traitors. Not that any of that mattered to Emmeline, who, at eleven-years-old, couldn't entirely comprehend silly adult quarrels like such.

"Yes, Dad, I know," she said, rolling her eyes. "Now if we don't hurry, I'll miss the train!" It was ten minutes to eleven o'clock, and there was no time to waste. Mr. Webb heaved Emmeline's trunk onto a cart and wheeled it down the way.

"Just up ahead, Em," Mrs. Webb pointed at the area between platform nine and ten. "We'll just go straight through the barrier, okay, dear?" Emmeline nodded; it was no news to her how to get to platform nine and three-quarters.

The three of them dashed to the barrier, Mr. Webb pushing Emmeline's trolley. Just before they passed through, though, Emmeline couldn't help but notice a red-haired family to her right. There was a black-haired bloke standing with them, and he looked about Emmeline's age.

Emmeline never expected to hit the barrier head-on, so when a crimson train came into view, and a sign up overhead said Hogwarts Express, she smiled. Platform nine and three-quarters was packed, and the Webbs had to weave strategically through the crowd to get closer to the train. Mr. Webb found a more closed-off compartment and tossed Emmeline's trunk in the corner.

"Well, g'bye, Mum," Emmeline said, and Mrs. Webb wrapped her in a bone-crushing hug. She sobbed into Emmeline's shoulder, and mumbled incoherently. Mr. Webb pried the woman from his daughter, and Emmeline smiled gratefully at him. "I love you both!"

Waving, Emmeline watched them step off the train. Mrs. Webb was still clutching her husband, tears rolling down her face. Emmeline could feel a lump forming in her throat at the sight of her mother, but willed herself not to cry. It was not a sad day. It was a happy one. It was her first day at Hogwarts, her first day at the famous school for witches and wizards.

"Uh, do you mind if I sit here?" asked a fellow with raven hair. He wore spectacles, and his clothes hung off his body, like they were several sizes too big.

Emmeline smiled. "Of course. Please." She gestured to the cushions across from her, and he took a seat, avoiding eye contact with her. "I'm Emmeline Webb," she said, outstretching her hand. He stared at it for a moment, before leaning forward to shake. His grip was loose, but surprisingly steady.

"Harry Potter," he said in return, giving a wide smile. Emmeline could have died. _The_ Harry Potter? Sitting in her compartment? A little over half a foot from her? The Boy Who Lived?

Emmeline couldn't stop the smile that slipped onto her lips. "Brilliant," she breathed. "Does that mean you have the - "

But before she could even finish, the compartment door slid open, and a red-headed boy appeared at the threshold. "Anyone sitting here?" he asked, pointing at the spare seats on both sides of Harry and Emmeline. "Everywhere else is full."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, and then his eyes slid to Emmeline. "Maybe you should ask her. She was sitting here first."

The red-haired boy glanced at Emmeline, his eyes a little wide, and his stance a bit frozen. It was painful just watching him struggle to string together another inquiry, so Emmeline nodded. "Of course. The more, the merrier."

He nodded in gratitude, and sat on Harry's other side. The boy glanced at Harry, and then looked away, acting as if he hadn't looked. Emmeline noticed there was a black mark on his nose. Dirt, perhaps?

"Hey, Ron," said two voices in unison. Emmeline whipped her head to the compartment door, where two identical red-heads stood, leaning on the door's frame. "Listen, we're going down the middle of the train - Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," Ron mumbled.

"Harry," said one twin, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. Who are you?"

Emmeline's eyes widened just the slightest at the sudden attention, and stuttered her name to the twins, and they smiled and nodded. _In sync_. "Please to meet you, Emmeline. See you later, then."

"Bye," said Emmeline, Harry, and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out.

Emmeline's brows rose. "Oh, so you know already?" she asked, and he nodded dumbly.

Harry nodded.

"Oh - well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said Ron. "And have you really got - you know..."

He pointed at Harry's forehead.

Emmeline sighed. "I was just going to ask him that, until you and your brothers interrupted." Then she directed her attention to Harry. "Is it really in the shape of a lightning bolt?"

Harry pulled back his bangs to show the scar. Ron and Emmeline both stared blatantly, but Ron seemed less tactful in the situation.

"So that's where You-Know-Who -?"

"Yes," said Harry, "but I can't remember it."

"Nothing?" Emmeline inquired glumly. She hated to admit it, but she had been expecting at least a few juicy details. Even if she did know that Harry was just a baby when it happened.

"Well - I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."

"Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, and Emmeline frowned. She elbowed him and his ears went red, quickly looking away.

"Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry, and Emmeline and Ron nodded.

"Er - yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"Same with me," Emmeline said. "Well, maybe not the accountant part. I don't know of anyone in my family who's not a witch or wizard."

"So you two must know loads of magic already."

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?"

Emmeline smacked Ron's arm. "They're people, too, dummy. They're just like us, but not magic."

Harry frowned. "Horrible - the ones I lived with, at least. Wish I'd had three wizards brothers." He looked at Ron at the last part, and so did Emmeline.

"You have three brothers?"

"Five," said Ron. He seemed a bit gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left - Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a rat grey rat, which was asleep. Emmeline cringed at the sight. She hated rats.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they could aff - I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

Ron's ears went pink. He started to say something again, but resolved to staring out the window instead.

He may have been quick, but Emmeline had caught the slip. But there wasn't anything wrong with not being able to afford anything - not that the Webbs had ever had that problem. Emmeline was an only child, and they were at average status in the community, so they got on fine.

Harry seemed to think the same, about nothing being wrong with lack of money, because he said so, about having to wear his bratty cousin's old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents. This seemed to cheer Ron up.

"...and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort -"

Ron gasped, and Emmeline frowned.

"What?" said Harry.

"_You said You-Know-Who's name!_" said Ron, sounding quite shocked and equally impressed. "I'd have thought you, of all people -"

"You idiot," Emmeline scolded, "Harry's never been in the wizarding world. He doesn't fear the name, because he doesn't know you should."

"Right. I'm not trying to be _brave_ or anything, saying the name," said Harry, "I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn... I bet," he added, and lowered his eyes just slightly, "I bet I'm the worst in the class."

"You won't be. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough."

"Besides, you're Harry Potter."

While the three had been talking, the train had taken them out of London. Now they were hurdling past fields full of cattle. They were quiet for a time, watching everything go past.

Around half past twelve, there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Harry leapt to his feet, along with Emmeline, who hadn't been able to eat breakfast that morning, with all her nerves. But Ron's ears went pink again and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches. Harry and Emmeline went out into the corridor.

Emmeline surveyed the candy with an expert eye - she had frequented Honey Duke's many a time, and her dad always brought her home sweets from his office job at the Ministry of Magic.

There were Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other things. Harry seemed to be particularly excited about the sweets, and got some of everything, paying the woman eleven Sickles and seven bronze Knuts. Emmeline, who despised Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and didn't see the attraction to Licorice Wands, bought three Cauldron Cakes and two Chocolate Frogs, along with a Pumpkin Pasty for later.

Ron stared as Harry hauled in all his sweets and tipped the lot onto an empty seat.

"Hungry, are you?"

Emmeline laughed, nibbling on a Cauldron Cake.

"Starving," said Harry, taking a rather large bite out of a pumpkin pasty.

Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

"Well I love corned beef," Emmeline supplied, reaching for one of the sandwiches, and Harry offered a pasty in exchange, but Ron held the package back, shaking his head.

"You don't want these, they're all dry," said Ron. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with five of us."

Harry insisted, and eventually, Ron caved. Both boys, and Emmeline, munched their way through all Harry's and her pasties, cakes, and candies. While the boys had forgotten the sandwiches, Emmeline certainly hadn't. She had always like corned beef, regardless of them being dry or not. So she happily ate through the entire package.

"What are these?" Harry asked, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not _really_ frogs, are they?"

"No," said Ron. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

Emmeline scoffed. "You're missing Agrippa? Don't even get me started. I haven't been able to find that one since I began collecting."

Ron's brows rose. "You collect Chocolate Frog cards?"

"Ha," Emmeline mused. "_Do I collect Chocolate Frog cards_?" She shook her head, and Harry frowned.

"What?"

"Oh, of course you wouldn't know - Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect - famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

Emmeline laughed. "You've haven't got Ptolemy? I've got three of him!"

While Ron tried to bargain a trade for one of her cards, Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog. It showed a man's face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.

"So _this_ is Dumbledore!" said Harry.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa - thanks -"

"You'll not get Agrippa if I have anything to say about it!" Emmeline protested, wrestling him for the card. Ron resisted admirably, and they both ripped open the packaging. But it was only Morgana.

"He's gone!" Emmeline turned to see Harry gaping at his card, where Dumbledore had just left.

"Well, you can't expect him to hand around all day," she said. "He'll be back."

Ron offered Harry the Morgana card, which he and she had already discussed that they both had her already. His eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped.

"Help yourself," said Harry. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos."

"Do they? What, they don't move at all?" Ron was in awe. "_Weird!_"

"You know, I've heard about that," Emmeline said. "I can't decide if that's cooler than them moving or not."

Ron and her spent their time digging through the Chocolate Frogs, him eating them, while she examined the cards. Harry had already collected a sizable pile, and she had managed to snag a Circe card, one she had been scouting for for months. She watched Harry open a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.

"You want to be careful with those," Ron warned Harry. "When they say every flavor, they mean _every_ flavor - you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger-flavored one once."

Emmeline cringed at the mere thought. "A year or so ago," she said, while Ron examined a green bean, "I had a squash flavored bean. I was never the same." Ron nodded in understanding after he ate a sprout flavored bean.

They had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. Even Emmeline joined in. Both she and Ron refused a particular gray one, which Harry bravely nibbled on. It turned out to be pepper.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had disappeared. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and a round-faced boy came in. He was in tears.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," said Harry, and Emmeline nodded, adding a smile to reassure the boy, who looked to be about their age.

"Yes," the boy said miserably. "Well, if you see him..."

"We'll be sure to tell you," Emmeline promised.

He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron, absently tearing through another Chocolate Frog. "If I'f brought a toad, I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

The rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap, and if Emmeline could have scooted any farther away, she would have.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..."

He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway -"

"Ron," Emmeline said, pressing a hand to his arm. "Do you really think yellow would be an inspiring color for a _rat_? And your wand hardly looks in a condition to -"

He shrugged her off and raised he wand just as the compartment door slid open again. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you going to do magic? Let's see it, then."

She sat down on Emmeline's other side. Ron looked taken aback.

"Er - all right."

He cleared his throat.

_"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, _

_Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."_

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed grey and fast asleep. "Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will all be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

She said all this very fast.

Harry looked at Ron, and seemed relieved to see but his stunned expression that he hadn't learned all the course books by heart either. Emmeline had only managed to get three quarters of the way through _Hogwarts, A History_.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

Emmeline smiled, and shook hands with Hermione. She had a firm grip. "Emmeline Webb."

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Are you really?" said Hermione. "I know all about you, of course - I got a few extra books for the background reading, and you're in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_."

"Am I?" said Harry, looking quite dazed as Hermione listed the books.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Do any of you three know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... Anyway, we'd better go look for Neville's toad. You three had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

And she left, taking Neville with her.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron.

"Hey!" Emmeline cried, "I think she's nice. Maybe a little bossy, but I like her."

Ron threw his wand back into his trunk. "Stupid spell - George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."

"What house are your brothers in?" asked Harry.

"Gryffindor," said Ron. "Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw _would_ be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

Emmeline frowned. "Slytherin's probably not all that bad." She ignored Ron's bewildered face, and took to looking at Harry's curious one.

"That's the house Vol -, I mean, You-Know-Who was in?"

"Yeah," said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed. "What about you, Emmeline? What houses have your brothers or sisters been in?"

"Oh," she said, surprised at the question. "I don't have any brothers or sisters. But both my parents were in Hufflepuff. They wouldn't mind if I was in any other house, though. They say we shouldn't discriminate."

Ron nodded absently, and Harry fiddled with a loose thread on his seat cushion. "So what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?"

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," said Ron. "Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the _Daily Prophet_, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles - someone tried to rob a high security vault."

Harry stared. "Really? What happened to them?"

Emmeline jumped in. "Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. It must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."

"What's your Quidditch team?" Ron asked.

"Holyhead Harpies, of course," answered Emmeline. "Although the Chudley Cannons do hold up rather well."

Ron started in on her for liking the Holyhead Harpies, but went off on another tangent when Harry said he didn't know anything about Quidditch. So he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers and the broomstick he'd like to get if he had the money. He was just taking Harry through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slide open yet again, but it wasn't Neville, or Hermione Granger.

Three boys entered, and Emmeline noticed the look of recognition that crossed Harry's face when he caught sight of the pale boy in the middle. His face was pointed, and his white-blond hair slicked back. He might have been a bit cute, had his lips not been contorted into a sneer.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys, as was Emmeline. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry and Emmeline were looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Emmeline's eyes widened, and Ron gave a slight cough, which was definitely hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Emmeline was caught. He was a Malfoy, one of the families her father had always talked about. The Webbs were pure-bloods, just like the Malfoys, but they had always been shunted to the side, because they had been in Hufflepuff, not Slytherin. Her dad had always tried desperately to not say any bad things about them, but Emmeline still knew that they were sort of infamous in the wizarding community.

Draco Malfoy held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly, and Emmeline silently admired him.

Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer, you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either."

Emmeline stood. "Don't you think that's rather rude?" she asked, before even thinking of what she was doing.

"And who are _you_?" he sneered.

Emmeline splayed her hands on her hips. "Emmeline Webb, pleasure to meet you." She flicked her raven hair behind her shoulder and stared hard at him.

"Your father works in the Improper Use of Magic Office, doesn't he?" It sounded more like a statement, than a question. Emmeline nodded. "Anyway, Potter, you hang around riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Both Harry and Ron stood up, flanking either of Emmeline's sides. It appeared to be a stand-off, three on three.

"Say that again," Ron said, his face as red as his hair.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy snorted.

"Unless you get out now," said Harry, and Emmeline glared, though she was slightly terrified at the prospect of taking on Crabbe and Goyle, who were much bigger than her, Ron, and Harry.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have plenty."

Malfoy stepped forward as Goyle took a step closer to Ron, where the pile of Chocolate Frogs laid. Emmeline lined herself toe-to-toe with Malfoy, and she realized with glee that she was at least an inch taller than the pale boy. He sneered at her, and Emmeline found herself wondering what had made his eyes so cold, so mean.

But a horrible yell interrupted their encounter, and Emmeline whirled around to see that Scabbers the rat was hanging off Goyle's finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle - Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once. If they thought more rats lingered around the sweets, or they'd heard the footsteps of an approaching Hermione Granger, Emmeline was glad they had gone.

"What _has_ been going on?" Hermione said, looking at the sweets all over the floor and Ron picking up Scabbers by his tail.

"I think he's been knocked out," Ron said to Harry and Emmeline. He looked closer at Scabbers. "No - I don't believe it - he's gone back to sleep."

And so he had.

Emmeline folded her arms. "What a useless rat. But at least he helped with Goyle. I think we might have gotten ourselves in a little over our heads with nearly fighting that lot."

"You've met Malfoy before?"

Harry explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.

"I've heard of his family," said Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He turned to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?"

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"

"Scabbers has been fighting, not us," said Ron, scowling at her. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"

"All right - I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," said Hermione in a sniffy sort of voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

As Hermione was about to leave, Emmeline jumped forward and snatched her wrist. "Actually," she said, "do you mind showing me where I can change?"

Hermione gave a automatic nod, and Emmeline followed her out the compartment, ignoring Ron's indignant protests. Hermione was right; several students were hurling themselves up and down the corridors - Emmeline expertly dodged a tall boy with short hair.

"Can we be friends?" Emmeline ventured, and Hermione glanced at her over her shoulder. "I mean, I don't really know anyone, other than Harry and Ron, and they're both boys..."

"I suppose," Hermione said curtly, but a small smile crept onto her lips. She resumed walking. Emmeline could hardly hide her own smile as Hermione led her to a closed off lavatory for girls. "I changed in here earlier."

When Emmeline was tugging on her robes, a voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Emmeline cursed herself for leaving the last of her Cauldron Cakes in the compartment; Harry and Ron were probably cramming them into their pockets at that very moment. She could hear the rustling of the students in the corridors, and Emmeline straightened out her black robes. It would be a miracle if she didn't trip in them.

She hurriedly joined the throng of students in the corridor, and she felt the train slow down and finally stop. Emmeline did a long cursory look of the immediate area, but could not see Hermione. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. The night air was cold, and a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"

Emmeline swiveled until she could see Harry in the crowd of students. But there was no way possible to get to him with all the people.

The man that had called for first years was huge, at least eleven feet tall. Emmeline had to crane her neck to see his beaming face, the lower half covered in thick, coarse hair.

"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, they followed the giant man down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so incredibly dark on either side of them that Emmeline figured there must be trees there. Though with only the single so far up ahead, Emmeline had lost all hope of finding Harry, who she had lost once again in the crowd. There was no sign of Ron or Hermione, either.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the giant man called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path opened onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop high mountain on either side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" the giant man called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Emmeline finally caught a glimpse of Ron's red hair, and dashed forward, but he, Harry, Hermione, and Neville had already filled the boat.

Harry and Ron noticed her immediately.

"Oh, sorry, Emmeline. We couldn't find you."

Hermione looked apologetic. "I'm so sorry, Emmeline. I got lost in the crowd outside the girls' lavatory, and..."

Emmeline smiled. "It's fine. I'll find another boat."

They looked ready to smuggle her into theirs, but Emmeline twisted, and went on down the row, searching for an empty seat.

"Oy! You there!"

Emmeline turned to see Draco Malfoy lounging in one of the boats, surrounded by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy was half grimacing, half sneering at her, and Emmeline resisted a roll of her eyes. There hadn't looked to be any other free seats around, and Emmeline didn't want to get left behind.

"What?" she asked, and was proud to say that there was almost no hostility in her voice.

Malfoy sat forward. "You look like you need a seat, and there aren't any others around, are there?"

Emmeline folded her arms and frowned. "So what's your point?"

Malfoy's eyebrows pulled downward, and his face leaned more toward the expression of a sneer. "Wouldn't want you to get left back in these woods, would we? I hear there are lots of creatures round these parts."

Trying to ignore his taunts, knowing his was just attempting to get a rise out of her, Emmeline pretended to look around in slight fear. "R-Really?" she stuttered, and Malfoy smirked.

"I'd be able to protect you, of course. Seems you don't have Weasley and Potter to back you up. Webb, right?"

Emmeline twitched at the mentioned of Ron and Harry's names, but took a few steps closer to the boat. "Yeah. Would you, now? Protect me?"

He nodded, acting as if it was nothing, and Emmeline helped herself into the boat. She took a seat beside Malfoy - the only free one - and tried to ignore Crabbe and Goyle's lascivious stares.

The fleet of little boats moved off all at once at the giant man's command, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was mostly silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and neared to the cliff on which it stood.

Emmeline turned to Malfoy, who was a little too close for comfort. "But who's going to protect you?" she asked, and he frowned, his eyes widening just before she pushed him out of the boat. He toppled over the side and disappeared under the water, before coming to the surface, spluttering for all he was worth.

"My father's going to hear about this," he growled, and Crabbe and Goyle wrenched him out of the water.

Emmeline admitted to herself that it hadn't altogether been a brilliant idea, but Malfoy was soaking wet, snarling malicious things under his breath, and at the sight of his perfect hair all disheveled, Emmeline couldn't care less.

"Heads down!" yelled the giant man from his boat. The first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

Emmeline eagerly skirted away from the soggy Malfoy and his goons, finding her place next to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said the giant man, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after the giant man's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

The giant man raised a giant fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

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**Too long? Not long enough? How do you feel about Emmeline so far? Overall opinion? I'd love to hear anything you have to say, so _please review. _But only review if you're going to say something kind, or constructive. I don't need any of that useless rude shit. Thanks a ton. **


	2. The Sorting Hat

**I couldn't leave you guys on such a cliffhanger! But if I had gone any farther than that, it would've have been such a pain to edit that I might not have got around to doing it, or it would've taken ages. Keep in mind, I'm writing from the actual books, so if you recognize things, that's why. Also, if you're not ready for a seven book journey in a single fic, maybe you should step back.**

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Chapter Two: The Sorting Hat

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face, and Emmeline decided that she did not want to cross this woman.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said the giant man.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big that Emmeline figured it could take her whole house inside it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Emmeline could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right - the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up a bit as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. From the corner of Emmeline's eye, she could see Harry try to nervously flatten his hair.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry asked Ron.

"Some sort of a test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Emmeline shook her head, not even bothering to correct Ron's obviously distorted information. She took to looking around the small chamber to see anxious faces. No one was talking much, except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need.

Harry's brow furrowed, and his eyes landed on Malfoy, who was still sopping wet and looking very upset. "What happened to Malfoy?" he asked no one in particular, and Emmeline snickered.

"I pushed him off the boat."

"That's brilliant!" Ron cheered. "Wait, you had to share a boat with that cockroach?"

Emmeline nodded.

"Merlin's beard... Sorry, Emmeline."

She was about to respond when several people behind her screamed. Harry jumped about a foot in the air, and Emmeline barreled into Ron.

"What the -?"

Emmeline gasped. So did the people around her. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance -"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me." Emmeline stepped into line behind Ron, with Harry in front of him. They walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Even though her parents had weaved intricate tales of the Great Hall, and all of Hogwarts, Emmeline had never imagined such a strange and wondrous place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of facing staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Emmeline looked upward at the velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. Even before Hermione whispered that it was bewitched, Emmeline had already known.

Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty.

Everyone else was staring at the hat, and Emmeline glanced at it curiously. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:

_"Oh you may not think I'm pretty, _

_But don't judge on what you see, _

_I'll eat myself if you can find _

_A smarter hat than me. _

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_ Your top hats sleek and tall, _

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat _

_And I can cap them all. _

_There's nothing hidden in your head _

_The Sorting Hate can't see, _

_So try me on and I will tell you _

_Where you ought to be. _

_You might belong in Gryffindor, _

_Where dwell the brave at heart, _

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry _

_Set Gryffindors apart; _

_You might belong in Hufflepuff, _

_Where they are just and loyal, _

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true _

_And unafraid of toil; _

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_ If you've a ready mind, _

_Where those of wit and learning, _

_Will always find their kind; _

_Or perhaps in Slytherin _

_You'll make your real friends, _

_Those cunning folk use any means _

_To achieve their ends. _

_So put me on! Don't be afraid! _

_And don't get in a flap! _

_You're in safe hands (though I have none) _

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry, and Emmeline rolled her eyes. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Harry smiled weakly, but he still looked rather queasy.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the still to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blond pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause -

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Emmeline noticed the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Emmeline spotted Ron's twin brothers cat-calling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Emmeline had heard many things about Slytherin, both good and bad, and she found herself wondering how she would prosper in the house, if she happened to be sorted into it. The hat had said that you would make your real friends in Slytherin, and Emmeline had always been about making friends. Not the kind that would back-stab you, either.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Emmeline noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned.

Emmeline smacked his arm, and he rubbed it indignantly, his ears going pink.

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

Draco Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called. The hat barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy went to go join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself, for whatever reason. Emmeline wasn't so sure she would be okay with being in Slytherin now.

There weren't many people left now.

"Moon"...,"Nott"...,"Parkinson"..., then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"..., then "Perks, Sally-Anne"..., and then -

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"_Potter_, did she say?"

"_The_ Harry Potter?" Emmeline could imagine how nervous Harry was feeling, hearing his name echo not-so-quietly throughout the hall, and watched the hat drop over his eyes. It was maybe a minute, maybe two, before the hat shouted -

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He was getting the loudest cheer yet, and a red-headed boy, perhaps one of Ron's clan, shook his hand, while the twins chorused, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

And now there were only five people left, including Emmeline. "Thomas, Dean," a black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was a pale green now. Emmeline gave him a reassuring smile and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Emmeline could see Harry clapping with the rest, and she would have as well, had it not been so awkward being the only other first year standing there, aside from another boy standing a foot away from her.

"Webb, Emmeline!"

As she approached the stool, Emmeline found herself not feeling particularly nervous at all. The lump in her throat had vanished, and the pit in her stomach had gone with it. She sat down, pulling the hat over her head, the poster child of calm.

"Hmm," said a small voice in her ear. "You've plenty of courage, I see. Brilliant, you are, yes... You could be great, oh, yes. Past Hufflepuffs, hmm? You do not seem particularly patient, if you don't mind my saying... You have so much raw potential. Dauntless, quite - and you'll defend your beliefs till the very end. Where to put you?" Emmeline traced the wood on the stool and thought, _Anywhere's fine._

"Anywhere, eh?" echoed the small voice. "Interesting. You could be either...but better be SLYTHERIN!"

The last word was shouted to the hall, and Emmeline felt her heart drop into her stomach. If she had eaten more Cauldron Cakes on the train, she was sure she would have thrown them up right then and there. But nothing came, and Emmeline wobbled over to the Slytherin table, pretending not to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione's aghast faces.

"Zabini, Blaise" was made a Slytherin, but it was all Emmeline could do to not collapse. She didn't know anyone in Slytherin house. Well, except for Malfoy, but did he really count? But Emmeline would make the best of it, she always had.

Emmeline tried to ignore Malfoy's superior look, and took her seat just a ways down the table from him. She stared down at her empty gold plate. She had been hungry during the Sorting, but she had lost her appetite.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Emmeline frowned, but didn't care enough to ask any questions - and who would she ask, anyway? She didn't know anyone. _That's why you make friends_, the voice in her head told her.

But Emmeline didn't even have time to think about who to befriend, because the dishes in front of her were now piled with food. There were so many things to eat: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs.

Managing to find a little bit of her appetite, Emmeline gathered a few things on her plate, deciding she'd need her strength if she was going to be in Slytherin from now on.

She looked up to see the pearly-white aura of a ghost gliding past the table. It was a horrible ghost with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He sat himself down beside Malfoy, who looked nearly horrified at the seating arrangements. Emmeline almost felt bad for him.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding...

Emmeline helped herself to a few strawberries and pulled the stem off one.

"Parkinson," said a girl to her right, and Emmeline didn't immediately notice that the girl was speaking to her. "Pansy Parkinson." Emmeline turned to the girl who was called Pansy, and offered a small smile. Pansy was hard-face, and could easily be compared to that of a pug. But Emmeline was grateful for the communication, especially if it meant impending friendship.

"Emmeline Webb," she said, and Pansy nodded curtly. "Should we be friends?" Emmeline inquired, and hated herself for sounding so desperate, even if she was.

Pansy shrugged, taking a bite out of her treacle tart. "I suppose so. Why not? Allies are a good thing."

Allies? Is that how Slytherins thought of friendship? Maybe Emmeline could still request a change in houses. Was that even possible?

For the rest of dessert, Emmeline and Pansy conversed - well, Pansy mostly dominated the conversation, Emmeline chiming in only occasionally - until at last, the food disappeared. Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you."

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed somewhere at the Gryffindor table, but from her seat, Emmeline couldn't clearly see who he was looking at.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors."

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch."

"And finally, I mist tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

A few people laughed, but Emmeline was not among those.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Emmeline noticed that the teachers' smiles seemed rather forced.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he were trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

_"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, _

_Teach us something please, _

_Whether we be old and bald _

_Or young with scabby knees, _

_Our heads could do with filling _

_With some interesting stuff, _

_For now they're bare and full of air, _

_Dead flies and bits of fluff, _

_So teach us things worth knowing, _

_Bring back what we've forgot, _

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest, _

_And learn until our brains all rot."_

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Emmeline grinned as Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Slytherin first years followed a prefect girl named Gemma Farley, through the chattering cards. Emmeline caught sight of Hermione, and waved, which the other girl seemed slightly hesitant to return. Just before Pansy latched onto her and marched out of the Great Hall, Emmeline felt her heart break.

They were led down a series of hallways, and then a set of stone steps. It was significantly colder down in the dungeons than in the Great Hall, and Emmeline could feel the biting cold through her robes. She briefly wondered how Malfoy was fairing, as she had seen that he had completely dried from his dip in the lake.

There was a portrait on the stone wall of a man who was fiddling with his dagger, the hilt of which was encrusted with jewels. Gemma told the man the the password, and the portrait swung open to reveal a square hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it and found themselves in the Slytherin common room.

The windows didn't seem to show any sky at all, but water, and, Emmeline realized with a jolt, it was the lake they had sailed across to get to Hogwarts. A giant squid swam by, winking at them, and Emmeline chuckled nervously, not sure what else to do in the situation.

Silver lanterns hung from the stone ceilings, and medieval tapestries depicting the adventures of famous Slytherins covered the walls.

Gemma Farley directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. In another set of dungeons, Emmeline found herself in a room of five four-poster beds with green silk hangings, and bedspreads embroidered with silver thread. Their trunks had already been brought up as well, and Emmeline's was conveniently right beside Pansy's.

"Oh, good," she said, straightening her robes, her nose tilting in the air just slightly. Emmeline wondered if she was even aware of the action. "We're roommates." She nodded, and Emmeline slipped into her pajamas, exhaustion finally catching up with her after the exciting day.

As the lamps went out, and Emmeline crawled into bed, she stared up at the ceiling, wondering what, exactly, the others were doing in Gryffindor tower.

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**Okay, so I know the story's kind _eh _so far, but I swear, it'll pick up soon. More interactions with Malfoy will come about, the whole lot. The actual first book, to me, was interesting - don't get me wrong - but definitely not as exciting as say, the fourth, or fifth, or so on. **

**I'd love to hear anything you have to say, and I respond to every review... So...review? Please? It motivates me so much. Like, no joke. See you soon! **


	3. Double Potions

**Hey, all. I don't know how frequent updates are going to be, because I'd like to stay a little bit ahead of the game, but not be too inconsistent. I dunno. Anyway, here we are.**

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Chapter Three: Double Potions

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. All of which aided in Emmeline nearly being late to almost all of her classes. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it seemed to move around quite a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Emmeline was becoming suspicious that the coats of armor lining some hallways could walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open, especially when it had been the Bloody Baron, which had happened to Emmeline just the day before. She had met Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, and he'd gladly pointed her in the right direction, even if she was Slytherin, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors, a trick staircase, and a dead end corridor if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pulls rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Emmeline hadn't had more than one encounter with him, when she'd accidentally stepped on his scrawny cat's tail. The feline, Mrs. Norris, had lamplike eyes, and Emmeline had been lucky to escape with her life. The students all hated Filch, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick.

The classes weren't as bad as Emmeline had anticipated, but she still had piles of homework each night.

They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Thursday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a plump little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange planets and fungi, and found out what they were used for.

Definitely the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by an actual ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up the next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns always droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates, and got Emeric the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up. Emmeline mostly slept during the class, though.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. He was delightfully squeaky, and Emmeline quite enjoyed him.

Professor McGonagall was much different. She was strict and clever, and gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class. "Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Pansy, who shared a table with Emmeline, had scoffed and immediately dismissed the warning. Emmeline sighed, and once again wondered if the hat had made the right call in sentencing her to Slytherin House. Although it was a magic hat, so it probably had. She just had to figure out why.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was another story entirely. The whole room smelled strongly of garlic, and Professor Quirrell was a stuttering mess, hardly able to get a clear string of words beyond his pale lips.

On Friday morning, Emmeline slouched to the Slytherin table with disdain. The dungeons certainly were putting a damper on her mood, but Pansy refused to have such a mope around the table.

"Come on, you," she said threateningly, shaking Emmeline's shoulders. "Mail's about to come. And we've got Double Potions with the Gryffindors."

That meant nothing to Emmeline, however. While the rest of Slytherin teased and taunted the Gryffindors, Emmeline just watched from afar, occasionally intervening if things got too cruel. She could take the cold glares she got from her house mates, but the knitted eyebrows and frowns from the other students that she stood up for? That was different. She knew that they were confused, because she was Slytherin. They expected her to be just like the rest.

But Emmeline did have the mail to look forward to. As soon as she had gotten a chance, Emmeline wrote a letter to her parents, explaining about the Sorting Ceremony, and how gloomy the dungeons were. She also wrote to them about Pansy, and how she had found an unlikely friend.

Despite Pansy's hardness, and mean nature, she could be quite friendly, especially to Emmeline, as they were now best friends.

Just then the mail arrived, and so hundreds of owls streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps. Emmeline didn't have an owl of her own, so she just used the school owls when she wanted to write her parents.

A medium-sized tawny owl with a proud stature landed in front of her plate, which was filled with bacon and eggs. She was carrying a package, and nudged it meaningfully toward Emmeline, who immediately fed the owl a bit her toast. The owl hooted in thanks, and flew off.

Pansy leaned over her shoulder curiously, and Emmeline took to ripping off the twine on the edges of the parcel. Out of the corner of her eye, Emmeline could see Malfoy glancing her way, his eyebrows raised. She tilted the package away from him, so when she opened it, he wouldn't be able to see the contents.

The first thing Emmeline's hands came into contact with was a quilt. Her mother had always been fantastic at knitting, and Emmeline had plenty of her patchwork quilts in her room at home. She recognized this one: the Hogwarts emblem was sewed into the middle; something Emmeline had requested as soon as she received her letter to the school.

"Ha!" said Pansy. "A blanket? Does ickle Emmeline get cold during the night?" Emmeline sent her a withered look, and Pansy thankfully quieted, which was a feat in itself.

Emmeline fished around the parcel and found two packs of Chocolate Frogs, one of which Pansy stole. The last thing in the package was a letter from her mother. Emmeline ripped it open at once. It said, in her mother's fancy loops and curls:

_ My dear Emmeline,_

_ I'm so very happy to hear that your lessons are going all right, Em. Honey, I know you feel a wee bit nervous about being in Slytherin House, but trust me, it'll all be fine in the end. It seems you've already made a fine friend with Pansy, and I expect you'll make more before the year is up. You just have to find your niche, dear. From what you said, it sounds like this Hermione girl is nice as well. Inter-House mingling may seem strange, but you really should step out of your comfort zone. I trust you can handle this Draco Malfoy fellow you described? You know, darling, when a boy teases you, it means he likes you. But it doesn't matter which house you're in, just remember that. We're proud of you anyway, and we always will be. _

_ Love you, darling, _

_ Mum_

"You wrote your mum about me?" Pansy asked once Emmeline had set down the letter. She could her face flush, and nodded mutely. "Well, whatever. It's not like I care, or anything. Just hurry up and eat so we can go to class."

Emmeline smiled, because she already knew that Pansy tried to cover up any possible softness with meanness and insults. But it didn't affect Emmeline anymore, and she was just glad that Pansy didn't think it weird that she had written her mother about her. And she was especially happy that she hadn't mentioned anything about the Hermione part. Pansy always made fun of Hermione any chance she got, whether it was about her bushy hair, or her slightly beaver-ish teeth, Pansy teased it.

Potions lessons, of course, took place down in one of the dungeons. It was still quite chilly, but Emmeline had become accustomed to it, what with living in the dungeons and all.

Professor Snape, the Head of Slytherin House, started class by taking roll call, and paused at Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - _celebrity_."

Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle, who were at the table next to Pansy and Emmeline, sniggered behind their hands. Emmeline gave them flat looks, but only Malfoy seemed to notice, with which he retaliated with a scowl.

Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black, but they held no warmth. They were cold and empty and held slight scorn in them. Just like with Malfoy, Emmeline wondered why they had become so hateful.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they had no trouble hearing him - Professor Snape had a way about him that made a class go quiet at once. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Emmeline couldn't bring herself to care about being insulted. She took to watching Hermione Granger excitedly fidget in her seat. Pansy was looking at the girl with distaste, and Emmeline sighed.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly, successfully bringing Emmeline's attention back to the simmering man. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Even Emmeline, who had done a fair amount of reading since she arrived at Hogwarts, didn't know the answer. Harry didn't seem to, either, but Hermione certainly did, judging by her hand waving in the air as she stretched.

Ron, beside Harry, looked equally as stumped, and Emmeline heard Malfoy mutter something to his goons about idiot Weasleys. She had half a mind to hiss something at them, but was cut short before she could even really consider doing such a thing by Snape's tutting.

"Fame clearly isn't everything," he remarked to Harry, rightly ignoring Hermione's desperate hand. "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high in the air as physically possible without leaving her seat, but Harry didn't seem to have even the faintest idea what a bezoar was. Emmeline could only guess at best.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were shaking with laughter, and Pansy had quickly joined in. Emmeline frowned, shooting glares at Malfoy and his bodyguards. The pale boy sneered in response, and Emmeline wondered briefly if she had actually made an enemy out of Malfoy. _No_, she dismissed, _it was just teasing_. She certainly didn't hate Malfoy, not like Harry and Ron probably did. She just though the boy could do with being knocked down a peg or two.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At the mention of this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching up to the dungeon ceiling. Emmeline's lips parted slightly at the action, and ignored Malfoys taunts and jeers that he made under his breath.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

A few people laughed; Seamus Finnigan winked at Harry; but Emmeline was not among them. She knew how hard Snape could be, being from his house and all, and she wondered if Harry would get a detention.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

After a few minutes, Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeons. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus Finnigan's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville only whimpered in response as boils started to pop up all over his nose. Emmeline felt very sorry for him indeed. "Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

This was so unfair that Emmeline almost wanted to protest in their defense, but bit her lip as she saw Ron kick Harry when he tried to do the same.

Emmeline climbed off her stool, and Pansy jumped down a moment after. Malfoy was silently gloating about being continually told how well he was doing, and Emmeline wanted to smack him right then and there, but decided it wouldn't be such a good idea with Snape so close.

As they climbed the steps out of the dungeons an hour later, Emmeline was feeling very exhausted. She let Pansy lead her to the library, where they did a bit of reading on their next History of Magic assignment, a two-foot-long essay on why Emeric the Evil was just so despicable.

Emmeline, however, couldn't find it in herself to write too much. She was too busy thinking about how Snape had purposefully antagonized Harry, and wondered how he put up with it. Clearly, he received it from most of the Slytherins, and with Snape combined, that seemed like an awful lot of hate and insults.

"What's wrong, Em?" Pansy inquired, pulling up a chair. She propped her arms up on the table and frowned at Emmeline. "You don't look very all right."

Emmeline, who was quite surprised by Pansy's evident concern, took a moment to answer. "I think it's the dungeons. They're so dank and dark and gloomy. I want to be somewhere warm."

Pansy kind of smiled, or maybe it could better be described as a smirk. "Maybe we'll sneak you into the Gryffindor tower, eh?"

Emmeline laughed. "You wouldn't be caught dead in the Gryffindor tower, even if you could get in."

Pansy winked, and slammed her book shut, declaring that it was nearly time for dinner, and that they should get down to the Great Hall.

Harry and Ron walked into the Great Hall, their pockets clearly weighed down with something or other. Hermione gave them curious looks, and Emmeline's brows rose at the exchange. They looked like they had very important information to share.

Pansy pushed Emmeline onto the bench at the Slytherin table, which just so happened to be right across from the insufferable Malfoy. Emmeline knew that Pansy and him got on all right, but she had so far been left out of their affairs, which probably consisted of mass amounts of bullying and hexing other students in the corridors.

"Aren't you friends with Draco, Em?" Pansy asked innocently, sending a look Malfoy's way, which he dutifully ignored. Emmeline wasn't sure what exactly Pansy was doing, but she didn't want to be a part of it.

"No, I don't think I am, Pansy," Emmeline complied, her eyebrows raised in suspicion.

Pansy tutted. "You really should be. His father's Lucius Malfoy, you know. He has lots of connections."

Oh, so that's where Pansy was going with this whole spiel. She was just being a kiss-up.

"I bet," Emmeline muttered, but Malfoy, with the super-hearing he seemed to have, made eye contact with her and glowered.

"Have something to say, do you?" he remarked. "Then go on, Webb, say it."

Emmeline sighed. "I just don't think you're all that big of a deal, Malfoy. You make out like you're hot stuff, but you just seem like a cruel boy to me that enjoys hurting other peoples' feelings."

And with that, she shouldered her bag and left, Pansy calling after her to come back.

* * *

**As always, do tell me what you think. I got a really shit review from someone anonymous, and now I feel really bad. So, could you please send a review my way? Whatever you got. I don't even care. Tell me anything. Well, I hope you enjoyed. See you soon, hopefully. Have a lovely day, wherever you are. **


	4. In Which Malfoy is a Right Git

**AHHH! Well, I'm definitely feeling much better about this story, thanks to **Moonlightsong of Thnderclan**'s review! Thank you so much! You don't know how much it means to me! And **RoseGranger**! Thank you!**

* * *

Chapter Four: In Which Malfoy is a Right Git

As soon as Emmeline saw the notice pinned up on the Slytherin common room that announced they would be having flying lessons with the Gryffindors, she sighed with relief. Before now, she hadn't had any chances to talk to Harry, Ron, or Hermione, other than a few brief chats after Potions. She really wanted to talk to them about the Gringotts break in, which had happened the same day she had been at Diagon Alley.

But until that time, Emmeline had to listen to Malfoy droll on and on about how once he feinted Muggles in a helicopter when he was playing Quidditch with a few of his mates. For one, Emmeline found that Malfoy having friends was quite a strange idea indeed. Acquaintances, maybe. Allies, okay. Friends? Not a chance. She didn't even think Crabbe and Goyle were really Malfoy's friends.

Emmeline herself hadn't much experience on a broomstick. She could fly around all well and good, but when it came to sharp turns, and any sort of turbulence, she was out for the count.

She watched with distaste as the mail came in, and Malfoy's eagle owl dropped him a large package, which was undoubtedly filled with sweets. He tore open the parcel and smirked, waving around a Chocolate Frog with an Agrippa card inside. Emmeline all but seethed, and had to seriously resist from tackling him to get at the card.

Pansy had insisted on sitting across from Malfoy, so every day, breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert, she had to endure his snide comments and taunts. She seemed to find him rather amusing, and Crabbe and Goyle hung on his every word, while Emmeline just was bored.

There was an exclamation from the Gryffindor table, and Emmeline swiveled to see Neville holding a Remembrall, which was filled with crimson smoke, indicating that Neville had forgotten something.

Malfoy immediately got to his feet, followed closely by Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy wanted to go after them, but Emmeline held her back, not exactly eager to get caught up in whatever mess Malfoy was planning on creating.

Emmeline watched him saunter over to the Gryffindor table, and snatch the Remembrall from Neville's hands. Harry and Ron jumped to their feet, and Emmeline started to stand, too, when Professor McGonagall appeared, inquiring what was going on. From her distance, Emmeline couldn't hear what was being said, but by Malfoy's scowl, she figured it was something good.

He gave back the Remembrall, albeit reluctantly, and sloped off with Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

* * *

At three-thirty that afternoon, the Gryffindors appeared on the smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance. It was a pleasant day overall; clear, breezy, and the grass rippled beneath Emmeline's feet.

She had let Pansy drag her to flying lessons ten minutes early, where she found the rest of the Slytherins had already gathered. Twenty broomsticks were also lined up uniformly.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, grey hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Emmeline examined her broomstick. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles. She suddenly did not want to fly anymore. Malfoy, on the other side of her, seemed quite smug, and was smirking at his broomstick.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say, 'Up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Emmeline's broom stuttered, and she frowned down at it. Looking to her left at Malfoy, she was very upset that he already had his in hand. He sneered at her, and she stuck her tongue out childishly.

Hermione seemed to be having the same problem getting her broom up, at least, as it was simply rolling over on the ground. Harry's broom had almost immediately jumped into his hand, and Ron's had just missed his hand and smacked him in the face, earning a chorus of chuckles from anybody in the vicinity.

Madam Hooch showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Malfoy, apparently, had been doing it wrong for years, to which Harry and Ron snickered at. Emmeline just smirked.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle - three - two -"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy, pushed off hard before the whistle had so much as touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle - twelve feet - twenty feet. Emmeline saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and -

WHAM - a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, even without its passenger, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over the poor Neville, and muttered something about a broken wrist. She turned to the rest rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, tears streaming down his red cheeks and clutching his swelling wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm wrapped around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot that Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins, aside from Emmeline, joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy, and Emmeline frowned. "Never thought _you'd_ like fat little cry-babies, Parvati."

"Pansy," Emmeline hissed, "that's so rude."

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"Well, go on," Emmeline said, "give it back. Someone from Gryffindor could return it to him." Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Malfoy smiled nastily.

"And what'll you do if I don't, Webb? Glare at me?"

There were snickers, and Emmeline felt her face grow hot, felt Pansy tugging on her robes.

"No, Malfoy. I rather think I'd do something far more interesting. Maybe I'd steal your hair gel and replace it with paste? Put itching powder in your underpants? I'm sure the Weasley twins have a whole arsenal of ideas stuffed away for a rainy day."

Malfoy scowled at her, and looked as if he was about to give a rebuttal, when Harry stepped forward.

"Give it here, Malfoy," he said.

"Actually, I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find - how about - up a tree?"

"Give it _here_!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leap onto his broomstick and taken off. To his credit, he was quite fantastic at flying.

Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak, he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom.

"_No!_" shouted Hermione. "Madam Hooch told us not to move - you'll get us all into trouble."

Emmeline nodded vehemently, eyeing Malfoy, who was patiently waiting, acting as if it was nothing to stay balanced on the broomstick. "Really, Harry. All he wants is for you to get in trouble."

But Harry, predictably, ignored them. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared. Several girls screamed and gasped, and Ron gave an admiring whoop. Emmeline, though, was particularly nervous. She had a feeling that something was going to happen, not necessarily good or bad, but something was going to come of this encounter. She'd need to remind herself to give Malfoy a right smack on the back of the head later.

The pale boy seemed stunned that Harry had taken his challenge.

"Give it here," Emmeline heard Harry call, "or I'll knock you off your broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.

Harry, the picture of cool confidence, seemed like he could completely take Malfoy. According to him, he had never ridden a broomstick in his life, but he was spectacular at it. Probably on par with Malfoy, who had been doing it for years. He leaned forward and the broom shot toward Malfoy, who just narrowly dodged him. Several people were clapping as Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broomstick steady.

Yes, Malfoy was good. But Harry was better.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called.

Emmeline squinted, and Malfoy yelled something else that was drowned out by more girlish screams. The boy threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground, landing smoothly.

Not bothering to watch Harry chase after the Remembrall, she rounded on Malfoy. "You dolt!" she spat as he brushed off his robes, not that anything had gotten on them. "Why'd you take Neville's Remembrall? Do you enjoy causing mischief and mayhem?"

Malfoy seemed quite affronted by the insult of being called a dolt, and a faint pink crossed his cheeks.

"And you know what?" Emmeline went on, splaying her hands on her hips. "Harry's so much better than you. He's brilliant, and loyal, and brave, and courageous, and kind. So much more than you, who preys on the weak and feeds off pain and anguish. You are a parasite, a cockroach."

Malfoy was rather red-faced by the time Emmeline had finished ranting, and was just about to say something when Harry's name was called.

It seemed that in the time Emmeline had been berating Malfoy, Harry had landed with the Remembrall.

Professor McGonagall was running towards them.

"_Never_ - in all my time at Hogwarts -"

The woman was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "- how _dare_ you - might have broken your neck -"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor -"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil -"

"But Malfoy was being a right git -"

"Miss Webb!"

"But Malfoy -"

"That's _enough_, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle - the wretched trio - looked rather pleased with themselves, and Emmeline scowled at the blond. He was getting far too much enjoyment as Harry trailed after Professor McGonagall towards the castle.

"How could you do that, Malfoy?" Emmeline asked as conversations sprung up all around them. "You knew you could get us in trouble. _You_ could've gotten into trouble."

Malfoy gave a smirk. "Worried for me, are you, Webb?"

Emmeline scoffed. "As if I'd worry about a sod like yourself. Just surprised you'd risk the possible point deduction, or detention, or expellation."

Malfoy shrugged, like it was nothing. Clearly _he_ hadn't been worried.

* * *

It was dinnertime, and Emmeline went to the Gryffindor table to see what Professor McGonagall had sentenced Harry to, but was pleasantly surprised to hear otherwise.

"_Seeker?_" she whispered, in awe. First years weren't allowed to have their own brooms, but clearly, an exception had been made.

"Training starts next week," Harry said. "Only you can't tell anyone. Especially not anyone in Slytherin."

Emmeline nodded in understanding. "Imagine if Malfoy heard the news. He'd have a bloody heart attack!" They laughed at her joke, and then their expressions darkened when the very boy appeared on her other side, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

Emmeline was so eager to shove it in Malfoy's face, that she nearly blurted out the bit about Harry being Gryffindor's new Seeker. Luckily, Harry beat her to the punchline.

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," he said coolly.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy.

Emmeline snorted. "Oh, I'd _pay_ to see that."

Malfoy gave her a particularly hard look and continued, "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only - no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," said Ron, wheeling around. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Oh, boy. They were talking seconds. And that meant that they were serious, to an extent. A second was there to take over if you died, but that only happened in proper wizard's duels. Emmeline couldn't imagine either of them had enough experience to actually do any damage.

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up. Emmeline was surprised to have his eyes even slide over to her.

"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight, all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

When Malfoy had gone, Emmeline bid Harry good luck, and went off to the Slytherin common room, where Pansy would surely be.

* * *

There was a whispering that awoke Emmeline; she'd fallen asleep in the common room. The lights were out, but the fire was still going strongly, creating odd flickers around the otherwise dark room.

Emmeline almost recognized the voice immediately; it was Malfoy. He was talking in hushed voices with Crabbe and Goyle, and, laughing. It was odd to see him laugh; though it could be better described as a smirking sneer. She wondered what it would like to see him give a happy laugh.

The first thing she heard truly offended her ears.

"Imagine the look on Potter's face when Filch catches him," Malfoy said, and Emmeline's mind took a few seconds to catch up.

It was a little over half-past eleven, Malfoy should have been on his way to the trophy room to duel with Harry. But then it occurred to Emmeline: Malfoy had informed on Harry. Surely he was hoping Harry would get in trouble for being out of bed past curfew.

Emmeline stood up, successfully scraping back the chair she had been lounging in. Malfoy looked up immediately, his eyes narrowing in the darkness.

Letting her voice echo in the shadows, Emmeline said, "You're a real arse, you know that, Draco Malfoy?"

He didn't even get the chance to respond, because she spun on her heel and clambered out of the portrait hole to search for Harry, who would surely be wandering the corridors with Ron in tow.

Emmeline flitted down the corridors, nervous now that she was actually walking around after curfew. Before long, she was on the third floor, and dashed to the trophy room, forgetting all previous thoughts of being quiet and sneaky.

She burst in through the door and found a wand pointed right at the center of her chance. The hand belonged to Harry, and he lowered it at once.

"Emmeline? What are you doing here?"

Taking quick notice of Neville and Hermione, who were also with Harry and Ron, Emmeline sucked in a breath.

"I've just overheard Malfoy in the dungeons. It's a set-up, Harry. He's ratted you out to Filch."

Hermione gave Harry an exasperated look. "I told you!"

But nothing more came of the conversation, because a noise in the next room made them jump. They all fell silent, and Emmeline felt for her wand, which was tucked carefully in her robes.

Someone spoke, but it wasn't Malfoy.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

It was Filch, speaking to Mrs. Norris. Emmeline chomped down on her lip and followed after Harry in a mad rush with the others as they made to leave the room.

Just as Filch entered the trophy room, the rest of them skirted out, and made their way down a long gallery full of suits of armor. Emmeline could practically feel Filch's sickening breath on her neck, he was so close. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run - he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armor.

The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the entire world.

"RUN!" Harry yelled.

Emmeline certainly did not need to be told twice; the five of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following - they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead, Emmeline right on his heels, without any idea where they were or where they were going - they ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which was miles from the trophy room.

"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering. Emmeline forced a breath of stuffy air down her throat and a pained look crossed her face; she hated running.

"I - _told_ - you," Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest, "I - told - you."

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower," said Ron, "quickly as possible. And you," he addressed Emmeline, "have got to get back to the dungeons, maybe give Malfoy a sock in the nose while you're at it."

"So he was never going to meet me?" Harry asked Emmeline, and she shook her head, frowning.

"I don't think so. He sounded like he'd had it planned all along. He just wants to see you get detention, or removed from Hogwarts."

"Let's go," Harry said simply, and Emmeline dawdled after them, looking for the way back to the dungeons, but a doorknob rattling knocked her from her reverie. Peeves came shooting out of the knob and gave a squeal of delight when he saw them.

"Shut up, Peeves - please - you'll get us thrown out."

Peeves only cackled, and the sound grated against Emmeline's ears.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

Emmeline grumbled angrily under her breath, thinking about how, in that moment, she hated Malfoy for all that she was worth. Even though, later, she would remember that she didn't really hate Malfoy at all.

"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves - this was a massive mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Emmeline smacked Ron, and they ducked under Peeves, running for their lives. They reached the end of the corridor, where they slammed into a door - and it was locked.

"This is it!" Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door, "We're done for! This is the end!"

Emmeline could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could towards Peeves's shouts. She searched for her wand, but couldn't yank it from her robes fast enough.

"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry's wand, tapped the lock, and whispered, "_Alohomora!_"

The lock clicked and the door swung open - they piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying. "Quick, tell me."

Emmeline strategically tuned out the rest, but figured that Peeves hadn't told Filch a thing. She took to looking around the room they had gone in, and her eyes widened when they landed on the monstrous dog, an animal that filled the whole space between the ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery slopes from yellowy fangs.

Emmeline nearly choked as she tugged on Harry's sleeve. He turned to her in question, and stopped dead once he saw what she was looking at. The others looked as well, and fright was frozen on their faces.

The massive dog was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Emmeline knew that they had taken the creature by surprise - the only reason they hadn't been eaten yet. Throaty growls were starting to come from the dog, and they echoed off the walls.

Harry groped for the doorknob, and Emmeline hurriedly helped him, very much in favor of getting caught by Filch rather than be eaten by a three-headed dog.

They fell backward - Harry slammed the door shut, and they tore back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else, because he was nowhere in sight. They didn't stop running until they reach a portrait of a fat lady on the seventh floor, and Emmeline realized that she had inadvertently followed them back to Gryffindor tower.

"Where on earth have you all been?" the Fat Lady asked, looking at their disheveled appearances and their flushed faces.

Harry gave the password, and hurried into the common room. Emmeline hesitated outside the portrait, knowing that houses were not supposed to allow people inside their common rooms that didn't belong. And Emmeline was from Slytherin, of all things.

She leaned into the portrait hole, eyeing them meaningfully. "Did any of you see the trap door that beast was standing on?"

Hermione nodded, her breath slowly returning to her. "I certainly did. It's obviously guarding something."

"But what?"

None of them knew.

"Anyway," Emmeline said, "I better get back to the dungeons."

"Thanks for coming to warn us about Malfoy, Emmeline," Harry said, and the others nodded vehemently.

Emmeline shrugged. "It didn't do much good. I"m sorry he's such a prat."

And with that, she turned on her heel, the portrait of the Fat Lady swinging shut behind her.

* * *

**I would love to hear what you think! As always, review! **


	5. We Could Be

**Sorry I've been gone for a few days. I lost inspiration for this story, and I've been reading a lot more. School's been kinda bleh... But here I am, with another chapter. Hope you enjoy! For you, **Moonlightsong of Thnderclan.

* * *

Chapter Five: We Could Be

Breakfast the next morning was absolutely glorious. Emmeline was dead tired, but the previous night had been surprisingly fun, looking back. She was especially thrilled by Malfoy's annoyed expression at seeing Ron and Harry stroll into the Great Hall. Pansy prodded Emmeline to tell her why she looked so happy, but Emmeline just said she had an excellent dream.

They all were minding their own business, eating breakfast and what not, when six screech owls flew threw the room and dropped a suspiciously broomstick-shaped parcel in front of Harry. He seemed to be a bit stunned at the package, and opened the letter that came with it.

Emmeline watched carefully as he read it, his face growing with happiness and he handed the letter to Ron. After exchanging a few words, the pair made to leave the Great Hall.

Turning back in her seat, Emmeline noticed Malfoy's eyes narrow. He tugged Crabbe to his feet, and the two marched out of the hall after Harry and Ron. Emmeline could sense the upcoming mess that Malfoy couldn't help inciting, and gave a few quick words to Pansy before making her departure.

Malfoy and Crabbe were blocking the stairs, and Malfoy looked jealous and angry. Without even hearing their quarrel, by the indignant venom spewing from Malfoy's lips, Emmeline could tell he was cross that Harry had gotten a broomstick when he, Draco Malfoy, couldn't have one.

Emmeline was just coming up behind Ron when Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.

"Not arguing, I hope, boys, Miss Webb?" he squeaked.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly, and Emmeline rolled her eyes. Always the eager one to try and get someone in trouble, Malfoy was.

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry, clearly struggling not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. Emmeline was losing the battle, though, as she coughed a snicker into her hand, and Malfoy shot her a dirty look, his features contorting into a sneer.

"And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," Harry added, which only added fuel to the fire, but was funny nonetheless.

Harry and Ron went upstairs, and Malfoy stalked in the direction of the dungeons, Crabbe hurrying after him. Emmeline had nowhere she needed to be, so she ambled after the two Slytherin dolts.

* * *

Emmeline really couldn't believe that two months had passed. The two months, mind you, that she had spent berating Draco Malfoy whenever he pulled something ridiculous and cruel (everyday), and juggling all the homework from her many classes, along with _trying_ to be a little social.

On Halloween morning, the tantalizing scent of baking pumpkin drifted through the corridors, wrapped its way around Emmeline's nose, and nearly making her spill a potion she was brewing.

Even better, Professor Flitwick allowed them to start making objects fly, which made Pansy wiggle in her seat excitedly. Professor Flitwick put them into pairs, and oddly enough, Emmeline was put together with Malfoy. Pansy pouted, complaining that she wanted to switch and be Emmeline's partner, but Professor Flitwick would not relent.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too - never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

It was reasonably difficult, but eventually, both Emmeline and Malfoy performed the task at hand flawlessly by using _Wingardium Leviosa_. So, after a seemingly endless - and tense - silence, of the both of them just sitting there, staring at their feathers, Malfoy cleared his throat.

Emmeline's eyes went to him immediately, but he was avoiding her gaze. His cheeks were dusted with a pale pink, which only made Emmeline's brows raise.

"That other night...where'd you go off to?" he asked, faltering halfway through, as if he wasn't sure if he really wanted to question it.

"What other night?" she inquired, now curious. "When?"

"Round two months ago," he said, squinting. "Reckon you called me an arse, then left through the portrait hole."

Emmeline almost couldn't believe this was real. Draco Malfoy was seriously asking her about a night she insulted him _two months ago_? What was his bleeding point?

"Why d'you remember _that_?"

Malfoy frowned, his eyebrows furrowing, and Emmeline wondered why he even cared. Why he, son of Lucius Malfoy, cared at all that she had called him a name, or gave a bother about it.

In the end, Malfoy just shrugged, and Emmeline sighed, toying with her feather. Malfoy followed her moment with his eyes, his surprisingly beautiful eyes. They looked softer, somehow, instead of how mean and hard they looked on the Hogwarts Express. Emmeline could almost imagine there was some warmth in them, some semblance of humanity.

"I went to warn Harry and the others," she said simply, "about you informing on them to Filch, like the rotten sod you are."

He winced, and drew in a breath. "Well then, did you get in trouble?"

Emmeline shook her head. "No. We were fine, but Filch nearly spotted us."

It was silent for a few moments, and Emmeline could hear all the other students repeating the spell, struggling to make their feathers float.

But Malfoy, again, broke the quiet.

"I didn't mean for you to get involved."

It was something Emmeline hadn't expected; she didn't see Malfoy as malevolent, or anything, but she also knew he was cruel. He could be horrible - absolutely horrible - but it seemed he could care, too. At least a little bit.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to try and help out my friends," she said, whispering the incantation under her breath. The feather sailed through the air, and a smile crawled onto Emmeline's lips as she watched it. Out of the corner of her eye, she could tell that Malfoy was looking at her, but she didn't turn.

"Friends?" he echoed, and Emmeline nodded. "Are we friends, Webb?"

Another surprise, via Draco Malfoy. Emmeline thought she had had him pegged as little more than a spoiled, rich brat. But she had been wrong.

Emmeline took a little while to respond; considering what she wanted to say. Clearly, Malfoy had the potential to be sort of nice, or thoughtful - whatever - but would he act on it, ever? Emmeline knew there had to be something - no matter how deep - inside him that wanted to be kind and sweet. It was there, and he could do it, so why didn't he?

So, when Emmeline did answer, she locked eyes with Malfoy, letting her blue eyes bore into his grey ones. "We could be."

* * *

On the way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Emmeline overheard Parvati Patil telling Lavender Brown that Hermione Granger was crying in the girls' bathroom, and wanted to be left alone. Immediately concerned for her friend, Emmeline went in search of the girl.

Winding her way to the third floor, Emmeline strolled into the girls' bathroom. Sobs bounced off the walls, and Emmeline winced, wondering what had happened that made Hermione so upset.

"Hermione?" she began tentatively.

There was a sudden choking sound, and Hermione inhaled sharply, trying to gather herself.

"Emmeline, is that you? Oh, do leave me be, please. I don't want to talk right now."

Emmeline rolled her eyes and stepped further into the bathroom, letting the door shut behind her. She knocked on the stall Hermione was in, and begged the girl to come out, to tell her what was wrong.

Hermione sniffled. "It was nothing, Emmeline. Please don't worry about it."

Leaning on the stall Hermione was in, Emmeline traced a pattern on the door. "Come on, Hermione. What happened? We're friends, aren't we? You can tell me anything."

There was a sniffle, and then a sigh. "Well, all right. It was just something Harry and Ron said..."

Emmeline clenched a fist. "Oh, those gits. They're so rotten. Maybe I should - "

"No!" Hermione squealed, "No, Emmeline, it's really fine."

"Then come out. The feast is going on downstairs. You don't just want to miss it, do you?"

"Well, not really..."

Emmeline smiled. "Then come on!"

There was a bit of fumbling, and then the door swung open, revealing Hermione, in all her red-rimmed eyed glory.

"Thanks a lot for coming to find me, Emmeline," she said, offering a small smile, which Emmeline gladly returned. Being a Slytherin, she truthfully didn't get the best treatment from the other houses, though she could see why, when she noticed how the Slytherins were.

"It's no problem. Now let's dry those tears and go get something to eat."

As Emmeline and Hermione were crossing to go to the sinks, there was an odd, indescribable noise. Hermione kept on, but Emmeline glanced over at the door. What she saw made her shrink back in horror: it was a troll.

Twelve feet tall, its skin a dull, granite grey, its lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was astounding. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

It was as if Emmeline was in shock; the troll slunk into the room, and the door slammed shut and locked right after it. Hermione, who had been washing her hands, frantically looked up, and her eyes rest on the massive troll.

At the exact same moment, both Emmeline and Hermione let out piercing, ear-splitting shrieks.

Emmeline gained her wits about her first; she rammed into Hermione and shoved the girl against the opposite wall. The troll began knocking off the sinks on the wall as it made its way toward them.

Emmeline couldn't help the whimper that escaped her lips - and felt slightly ashamed about it later - and couldn't yank her wand from the tangles that were her robes.

The bathroom door burst open, and Harry and Ron ran inside. Emmeline strongly suspected it had been they that had locked the door, expecting to trap the troll in a confined room, but inside trapping Emmeline and Hermione in with the beast.

"Confuse it!" Harry said to Ron, in a panic. He heaved a nearly smashed tap and threw it as hard as he could against the wall.

The troll stopped a few feet from Emmeline and Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking dumbly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean eyes noticed Harry. It made its way to him instead, lifting its club.

Emmeline glanced at Hermione, who she was half-covering, to find her face molded in the perfect expression of fright. She hadn't moved since Emmeline had pushed her into the wall, and she didn't seem as she could even do more than speak.

"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled Ron, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll hardly noticed the pipe hitting its shoulder, but paused, and then turned to Ron, who suddenly looked not ready for the encounter.

Harry dashed around the beast, grabbing for Hermione and Emmeline. "Come on, run, _run_!" he yelled, and Emmeline shoved Hermione forward, surprised that she could move her legs, as the rest of her seemed to be in complete shock.

Even with Emmeline's help in moving Hermione, Harry couldn't seem to get back round the troll's thundering legs. The troll all of a sudden swung its club around, nearly catching Harry, but he jumped back just in time, smacking into Emmeline and Hermione, knocking them to the tile floor.

As the troll swung its club again, Ron whipped out his wand and cried: "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

The club flew out of the troll's hand, rose high, higher up into the air, turned slowly over - and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The trolled swayed for a moment before falling flat on its face, with a thud so massive that it made the whole room tremble.

Emmeline got to her feet and pulled Hermione with her; they were both shaking and out of breath. Ron was frozen in place, staring at what he had done, and Harry rubbed his head.

"Is it - dead?"

Emmeline was surprised to hear Hermione's voice.

"I don't think so," said Harry, "I think it's just been knocked out."

There was a sudden slamming and loud footsteps. The four of them looked up from the troll to see Professor McGonagall plunge into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell glanced at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sank down onto a toilet.

Snape bent over the troll, his expression blank. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Emmeline, though she only had Transfiguration with the woman, while she was the Head of Gryffindor House, had never seen her so angry. Her lips were stretched thin, and white.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, her voice laced with an intimidating fury. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look, and then his eyes slide over to Emmeline. His face could only be described as disappointment.

"Please, Professor McGonagall - they were looking for me," Hermione said, surprising all of them.

"Miss Granger!"

"I went looking for the troll because I - I thought I could deal with it on my own - you know, because I've read all about them."

Emmeline quickly nodded, having no other choice than to jump on the bandwagon.

"Yes, me as well, Professor. I knew it was dangerous, and I couldn't let Hermione go off on her own, so I went with her."

Hermione seemed shocked that Emmeline had said this, but tried to recompose her features to show that she had known all about this.

"Miss Webb!" Professor McGonagall cried. "While I am pleased with inter-house mingling..."

"If they hadn't found us, we'd be dead now. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish us off when they arrived."

"Well - in that case..." said Professor McGonagall, staring at the four of them. "Miss Granger, Miss Webb, you foolish girls, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione hung her head, and Emmeline looked on.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "The same goes for you, Miss Webb. Five points from Slytherin. I'm very disappointed in the both of you. If neither of you are hurt, you'd better be off to your respective dormitories. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Emmeline certainly didn't need to be told twice. She dashed after Hermione, walking quickly down the corridor.

After along silence, Hermione turned to face her.

"Really, Emmeline," she said, "thank you for coming for me."

Much to Emmeline's surprise, Hermione wrapped her arms around the girl, and they stood like that for a full minute.

When Hermione pulled away, she smiled. "Well, I guess I'll see you later."

Emmeline nodded dumbly and watched Hermione prance off to Gryffindor tower. After another few moments, she shook her herself, and headed down to the dungeons.

Quickly, she slipped through the portrait hole and found that nearly the whole common room was filled. Food trays were piled precariously around, taking up all the surface area of the tables. The Slytherins were guffawing with each other, and yelling around the room.

It was a lovely sight, to see the most hated house, getting along with one another.

"Oy," Pansy called from where you sat with Malfoy, his goons, and a few others. "Where've you been, Em? Didn't you hear about the troll? We're supposed to stay in our dormitories."

Emmeline smiled, and joined them, apologizing for being late. Malfoy was looking suspiciously at her, and seemed startled when she gave him a smile.

But Emmeline was happy, because she had not only made a sure-fire friendship with Hermione, but she also had Pansy, who had worried about her return. Maybe Slytherin House was rumored as horrible - and it was, a little - but sometimes they could surprise you.

* * *

**Ah-ha, so there it is. I wanted to let everyone know that after I finished the Sorcerer's Stone bit, I might take a wee bit of a break. Although summer break is coming up in the next month and a half or so, so who knows? As always, please review kind things! **


	6. Slytherin Versus Gryffindor

**Sorry sorry sorry! And sorry again, but this isn't me saying I'll be posting more often even though summer's upon us, because I have a super special project that I'm working on. I'll try, though. I've just been really lame, and I apologize. **

* * *

Chapter Six: Slytherin Versus Gryffindor

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. Every morning, the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid, the gamekeeper, could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, as Quidditch season had begun.

On Saturday, the first Quidditch game of the season would begin: Slytherin versus Gryffindor. If Gryffindor won, however, they would move up into second place in the house championship.

Emmeline was thrilled to see the first game. She had been to Quidditch games before, but none of a school like Hogwarts. She had yet to see any of the teams in action, and knew none of the players on Slytherin's team. Although she did know a few on the Gryffindor team; there was the Weasley twins as Beaters, and Harry as the Seeker.

At dinner that night, Malfoy was going on - not to anyone in particular - about how Slytherin was definitely going to stop Gryffindor, to which Emmeline only smiled.

* * *

When the next morning came, the weather was very bright and cold. The Great Hall was filled with the enticing smell of sausages and the cheerful chattering of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match.

Emmeline mostly ignored the goings-on at the Slytherin table, although she did put in her two cents when she asked whether she thought Harry Potter would be any good or not, to which she replied that he was marvelous on a broomstick; this last statement earning her a scowl from Malfoy.

* * *

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch.

Emmeline joined Pansy in the top row, which was, conveniently, where Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were. Pansy had out a set of binoculars, as it could sometimes be difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

When the Slytherin and Gryffindor teams strutted out onto the field, everyone in the stands cheered. Malfoy whooped, waving an emerald flag, matching that of the Slytherin team's Quidditch robes.

Emmeline let in her own hoots and hollers, oddly proud of her house's team, though she had yet to see them play.

Down below, Madam Hooch was reading the players the rights, the what-not-to-dos, and so forth. They mounted their brooms, and with a resounding blast of Madam Hooch's whistle, they were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor - what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too -"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

A boy by the name of Lee Jordan, of Gryffindor House, was was doing the commentary for the match, closely monitored by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve - back to Johnson and - no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes - Flint flying like an eagle up there - he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle - that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and - OUCH - that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger - Quaffle taken by the Slytherins - that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger - sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which - nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes - she's really flying - dodges a speeding Bludger - the goal posts are ahead - come on, now, Angelina - Keeper Bletchley dives - misses - GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheers filled he nippy air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins. Emmeline clapped politely, earning yet another hard glare from Malfoy - and everyone in the vicinity.

Emmeline hadn't seen much of Harry so far. He was scouting up above the game, his eyes narrowed - no doubt searching for the golden Snitch.

Angelina Johnson scored, and the Gryffindors hollered again.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the - wait a moment - was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd - Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle - and Emmeline looked around frantically, her eyes narrowed.

Apparently, Lee Jordan had not been the only one to see the golden ball. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had spotted it, and he and Harry were neck and neck as they hurtled after it. The Chasers hung in the air, watching the pair.

Harry was definitely faster than Higgs, that much was obvious. He leaned forward on his broom just slightly, and Emmeline barely had time to squeak when Marcus Flint rammed into Harry. He spun off course, holding his broomstick for dear life.

The Gryffindors cried out in outrage, but the Slytherins just whistled. Malfoy was smirking, his grip tightening on the emerald flag.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.

The Slytherins did not shout kind things back at them.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. Emmeline looked about, but the Snitch had vanished.

Lee Jordan, clearly, was biased toward Gryffindor.

"So - after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating -"

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul -"

"_Jordan, I'm warning you_ -"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

Emmeline frowned as Harry dodged a Bludger. His broom started jerking in the air, like it was trying to buck him off. He gripped the stick tight, but the lurching continued.

Lee was still commenting.

"Slytherin in possession - Flint with the Quaffle - passes Spinnet - passes Bell - hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose - only joking, Professor - Slytherins score - oh no..."

Emmeline joined the cheers that the Slytherins started belting out. To her right, Malfoy barked a laugh.

"Look at Potter! What d'you reckon he's doing up there?"

It seemed that Malfoy had also noticed Harry's predicament with his broomstick, but didn't at all seem concerned. Other Slytherins were pointing up at Harry, and so were people from all the stands around them.

Harry's broom had started rolling, and gave a wild jerk. The crowd gasped, and Emmeline clasped her hands around her mouth. Malfoy glanced at her, his eyebrows downturned and his mouth pulled into a sneer. Emmeline paid him no mind, though, keeping her eyes on Harry as he was now holding onto his broom with only one hand.

"D'you think something happened when Flint slammed into him?" Emmeline whispered to Pansy.

The girl shook her head.

"Only powerful Dark magic can interfere with a broomstick. There's no way a dolt like Flint could do anything that powerful."

A sudden ruckus from the teachers' stand caught Emmeline's attention; Professor Snape was trying to put out a fire on his robes. In the top row of Gryffindor, Emmeline could see Hermione reappear, and she frowned.

Harry managed to clamber back onto his broom - much to Malfoy's dismay - and immediately dove downwards. He clapped a hand over his mouth, and landed on the ground on all fours, his broom hitting a few feet from him. Harry coughed, and Emmeline could just barely see something gold glinting in his hand.

Beside her, Pansy gasped. The girl waved an arm, tightening her grip on her binoculars. "He's caught the Snitch!"

Malfoy demanded to see the binoculars, and Pansy passed them over. The pale boy swore, pounding a fist on the railing, and Emmeline bit back a smile.

The game ended in complete confusion, the Gryffindors spilling out onto the field to lift Harry on their shoulders. Twenty minutes later, Marcus Flint was still complaining about how Harry didn't _catch_ the Snitch, but nearly _swallowed_ it.

It didn't matter, though - Harry hadn't broken any rules. So Slytherin was delivered a crushing defeat - Gryffindor winning at one hundred and seventy points to Slytherin's sixty.

It was almost pitiful, and Malfoy was outraged, taking to relating Harry to a wide-mouthed tree frog, which Emmeline only snickered at.

* * *

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts awoke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid, and the few owls that managed to get through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

Everyone was excited for the holidays to start. While the Great Hall had a roaring fire, the dungeons were horribly cold, with the Slytherin common room's weak flames.

In Potions one day, Malfoy decided to be particularly dreadful. "I do feel sorry," he said, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

He was looking over at Harry as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled, and Emmeline glared from her table with Pansy. If she had been at the same table as Malfoy, she would've kicked him.

Even if Harry stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas, it certainly wasn't any of Malfoy's business, who clearly was so jealous that he had to resort to taunts and jeers to feel better about himself. Emmeline would have felt sorry for him had he not been such a sod.

Emmeline, however, was not staying at Hogwarts for the holidays. She would be going to see her family, her bedroom, her Hufflepuff home.

It was odd, going back to a house of Hufflepuffs, when you yourself were a Slytherin. The two houses hadn't been really very friendly with one another, and Emmeline almost felt uncomfortable with the idea of going back, after having experienced the feud between the houses.

After Potions, Emmeline nearly ran into Malfoy as she was walking down the corridor. It seemed that up ahead, Hagrid was heaving around a large fir tree, and had stopped to talk to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Would you mind moving out the way?" Malfoy asked, his cold voice making even Emmeline shiver. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose - that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes and Emmeline seized the back of them, yanking him backwards, away from the others.

He glowered at her, which she ignored, and jerked out of her grasp.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Malfoy looked triumphant - like he had planned the whole thing - and he, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed past the tree, scattering needles everywhere.

Emmeline rolled her eyes, offered a quick apology to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid, and dashed after the wretched Slytherin trio she spent way too much time with.

* * *

Nearly everyone in Slytherin was going home for the holidays. Emmeline had her things packed and ready when the train came for them. She couldn't find Hermione in the throng of students, though, so she shared a compartment with Pansy and one of the girls in her dormitory, Daphne Greengrass.

When the train pulled up to the platform, Pansy bid Emmeline a farewell, going off to her Slytherin parents. Emmeline, noticing her parents and wincing - they looked so _Hufflepuff_ - before ushering them out.

Once she was at home, Emmeline began talking all about Hogwarts, and what's been happening, even how infuriating Malfoy was.

Eventually, though, even ranting about Malfoy tired Emmeline, and she went off to bed.

The rest of the holiday was mostly spent the same; lounging around the house, occasionally going out to play in the snow with old friends. After a few days, Emmeline dearly missed everyone at Hogwarts. She couldn't wait to go back.

* * *

**Oh ho ho, Emmeline's starting to notice things about her family. I dunno. I just reread this chapter, and I noticed how she was beginning to think like Slytherin. Or whatever. Take it as you will. Good wishes to all of you! Also, good luck on finals, if you haven't already taken them. Mine are next week! :)**


End file.
